The Systemic Series - Box Set

by K. W. Callahan

  “Letter?” Claire questioned her. “What letter?”

  Sharron stopped her unpacking and looked at Claire. “The letter he mailed to us about a week ago. The one explaining that you were coming down here and how he had a bad feeling about this whole flu thing.”

  Claire frowned and shook her head in confusion, indicating that she had no idea what Sharron was talking about.

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot, you didn’t know about it.” Sharron said.

  Upon our arrival back at camp, I saw Claire standing, waiting for me, tears in her eyes.

  “Uh oh, what’s up?” I said, setting my load of supplies on the picnic table and letting a backpack slide from my shoulder and drop heavily to the ground.

  Claire was smiling through the tears. “You didn’t tell me about the letter you sent. That was so sweet.”

  She was holding the opened envelope of one of the letters I had mailed the week before we left home, explaining where we would be, how to get here, and inviting my brother and his family to come down if things got too bad. She came over and hugged me hard.

  “You’re so good at planning ahead and such an amazing man. Did you mail any others like this?” she asked.

  I knew what she was getting at, and I noted the hopefulness in her voice, but I hadn’t told her about the letters for that exact reason. I didn’t want to raise her expectations of the entire family coming down when I knew it wasn’t likely to happen. “Yes,” I said, hugging her back tightly.

  “How many?” she questioned.

  I went through the list of friends and family members on both sides.

  Claire stepped back from me, looking up at my face, tears streaming down cheeks. She just shook her head, smiling. “Amazing…you’re amazing…amazingly thoughtful,” was all she could manage through the tears.

  I bit my lower lip. Her crying made me want to cry, half because I was so happy she was proud of me, half because I feared that some of the people I had invited would never arrive.

  “Claire…just don’t get your hopes up,” I said.

  She nodded, “I know…I just…” she broke off, turning and wiping the tears. “I just hope…”

  “I know,” I came over and wrapped my arms around her. “Me too. But right now, we have to focus on those of us who are here and help get them settled in,” I said. “Our family here is already growing and we have to make adjustments to ensure we’re able to accommodate everyone, so I need you to focus on that, okay?”

  “You’re right,” she agreed, wiping her eyes. “But thank you,” she paused, breaking away from my hold and looking at me. “Thank you for trying, if nothing else.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said softly, hoping that I wasn’t setting my wife up for a real letdown.

  12.01 p.m.

  CHICAGO

  INTERSTATE 294

  “Steve, please!” Emily pleaded with her husband. “Don’t get so close!”

  “What am I supposed to do, Emily? I’m stuck in this lane, and it’s the only one that’s moving. It’s just a car fire anyway.”

  After they’d arrived at the tail end of stopped traffic on the interstate, it wasn’t long before Claire’s parents could spot the cause of the backup and the resulting black smoke billowing into the sky ahead of them. Gawkers were bottlenecking near a vehicle fire, the apparent result of a car that had overheated on the shoulder of the highway.

  While the issue itself wasn’t an uncommon one when it came to a typical traffic incident one might see when traveling the Chicagoland interstate system, the dilemma it currently presented was not a favorable one. With people itching to flee the city and reports of roving gangs and carjackings prevalent, sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the highway was not where Steve and his family really wanted to be. And now, due to the press and flow of vehicles around them, they were being forced ever closer to the growing car fire.

  Steve had moved to the right lane as they approached the stalled traffic, assuming that left lanes were merging right. But as the smoke started to rise on their right, he realized his mistake. Now however, those in the left-hand lanes slowed to a snail’s pace in an effort to see what was going on beside them. This forced more vehicles over to the right as those on the right fought to move left; and considering the situation, drivers were being less than courteous.

  Steve had his left blinker on but no one was giving an inch. He stopped for a few seconds to try to make some room ahead of them to merge, but horns blared behind him as traffic pressed forward. After jamming his middle finger out the window and getting a slight nudge in the bumper from the driver behind him in response, he gave up his effort to merge. They were now only about 100 yards from the burning vehicle, the flames from which were flickering from beneath the hood, threatening to engulf the entire vehicle.

  “You really should get over, hon’” Emily urged.

  “What the hell do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Steve shot back.

  “I’m just saying,” Emily said softly.

  “Just let me drive,” Steve answered in frustration.

  The vehicle in the lane to their left – a monstrous black SUV much bigger than their own – made a move to cut in front of them, but Steve inched up, blocking its way. The other driver laid on his horn and the occupants inside started gesticulating wilding.

  “Why the hell would you want to get into this lane you fucking idiot?” Steve yelled at them even though they couldn’t hear. “You want to see the fire first hand? Fucking assholes!”

  Brian had donned headphones and was rocking out in the backseat, oblivious to what was going on around him.

  The other SUV continued its attempt to make its way into their lane, but Steve wasn’t giving up. He crept forward each time the other vehicle made a move. Soon, the two SUVs were just inches apart, the other vehicle angling ever closer.

  “Goddamn it!” Steve yelled, waving a hand at the other driver. “What…you gonna hit me?”

  They were maybe 200 feet away from the growing car fire now. The blazing vehicle appeared to be a late-90s sedan. A Hispanic family of five was standing on an embankment set across from a drainage ditch, watching helplessly as their hopes of escape literally went up in smoke.

  “I can feel the heat,” said Emily. “I don’t want to get too close. It could blow up or something.”

  The fire had moved to engulf the entire hood now and flames were shooting up into the air and spreading to the interior of the vehicle.

  The driver of the other SUV, still trying to cut over in front of Steve and his family, was now blasting away on his horn in an almost incessant blare. The vehicle was actually rocking from the angry occupants moving around inside.

  “Emily, there’s nothing I can do here. I’m trying to deal with this asshole,” he gestured with a hand to the SUV beside them. “I can’t get over because he’s pinning me in, and I’ve got this guy behind me literally up my ass pushing me!”

  Emily was shielding her face now. The heat from the car fire grew in intensity as they crept closer. The whole car was on fire now and acrid black smoke was billowing toward the sky.

  “Please, Steve,” Emily pleaded with him.

  Suddenly the hulking SUV beside them bumped the front corner of their vehicle, and began pressing against it, shoving them slowly – a bit at a time – over toward the shoulder.

  “They’re going to push us into that car fire,” Steve said incredulously.

  “Steve!” Emily said in fear, reaching over to grip his arm.

  Steve stomped the breaks, but the other SUV kept pushing, its’ bumper wedged against Steve’s front fender.

  The interior of their car was warming due to the heat from the car fire.

  “Is that a gun!?” Emily suddenly shouted, pointing at an occupant inside the other SUV. “Steve! Watch out!”

  Steve looked to his left, jammed the accelerator down and turned hard right, heading right for the burning vehicle on the highway’s shoulder. Gunshots rang out. The S
UV beside them that had been pushing them lurched forward as the lane in which Steve’s vehicle had sat now opened. Emily screamed as Steve grabbed her by the neck and forced her head down toward her lap while holding the steering wheel and trying to drive with the other. There were loud thudding sounds as bullets impacted with the side of the vehicle. More gunshots rang out, seemingly right next to Steve’s head and he cringed, raising a shoulder up near his face as his only protection since both hands were occupied trying to control the steering wheel and keep his wife out of harm’s way.

  Directly in front of them, the burning vehicle exploded into flames; a fireball billowed up to the sky. Shrapnel from the explosion shot hard against the windshield, and Steve was sure it would break, but it remained intact. As he maneuvered their vehicle onto the shoulder, he glanced quickly in his side mirror. Behind him, he could see the SUV that had been pushing them, its driver slumped over the steering wheel as the vehicle rolled uncontrolled across the shoulder and down into the drainage ditch behind them.

  Steve looked back in front of him. He swerved right, pulling his other hand away from Emily and using it to re-grip the steering wheel as he tried to navigate the impossibly small gap between the vehicle fire and the drainage ditch beside it, but it was too late. He lost the rear of the vehicle and it fishtailed out of control. One instant he was headed right for the fire, the next for the drainage ditch as he tried to recover the vehicle.

  He didn’t know which would be worse to hit. At the last second, he regained enough control of the vehicle to aim it more toward the ditch, making the instantaneous decision to die by blunt force trauma rather than be burned alive.

  The right side of the SUV dropped away at a sharp angle as its tires slid into the ditch. He heard Emily scream and Brian yell “Dad!” as everyone lurched over in their seats.

  7 p.m.

  SOUTHERN ILLINOIS

  We spent the afternoon following Will and Sharron’s arrival finishing up unloading their van and stashing it out of sight near our SUV. Then we helped them get their tent set up and begin settling in.

  Finally, we took a break. I poured shots of vodka for the adults, followed by beers compliments of Will and Sharron. The kids got celebratory sodas.

  After a dinner of hamburgers, hot dogs, and potato chips, Will and I climbed the hill to listen to the radio.

  Tonight however, there was no reception – only static.

  After our failed attempt with the radio, we went back to enjoying our beers by the fire as the kids played when suddenly our “doorbell” rang again. I was pleasantly buzzed from the booze and had actually just got my little warning device set back in place from Will’s earlier use.

  “Goddamn it,” I jumped up, partially surprised by someone else’s arrival, partially angered at the buzz-kill of our post-dinner leisure time being interrupted.

  My eyes met with Claire’s. I could see the hope, the expectations, glimmering in the firelight-tinted corners of her eyes.

  I didn’t have to say a word to my brother. He was on top of it, assault rifle in hand before I even got to my gun.

  “Let’s go,” he said, checking to make sure his weapon was locked and loaded while I did the same.

  I had to admit, it felt good having him there by my side.

  This time we made it to the parking area much faster than I had on my own when Will and his family had arrived. I think my willingness to move quicker was partially based upon the sense of security I felt with the addition of Will and partially due to the confidence provided by the falling cover of darkness.

  A great wave of relief swept over me as we made our way quickly, yet cautiously, into the parking area.

  “Mom,” I called, waving as we entered the clearing, “Dad…thank god you made it!”

  Will and I shouldered our rifles and closed the last 50 yards between us and our parents at a swift jog, each of us exchanging hugged greetings with an individual parent, and then switching off.

  “Why didn’t you call us?” Will asked.

  “Couldn’t get through,” Dad said. “Service is either out or jammed up. We tried you as well as your brother here a ton of times but never got through.”

  “Doesn’t matter now,” I said joyfully. “You’re here, and that’s all that counts. Did you have any problems on the way?”

  “Nope,” Mom said. “Pretty clear sailing all the way from Merrillville down. Nobody really on the roads. We were a little worried once we got down to these parts. Thought there might be some issues with roadblocks, but it was surprisingly clear. No problems at all.”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Has anyone else made it?” Mom asked.

  “Besides us, nobody yet,” Will said.”

  “Come on, we can talk more at camp,” I said. “I’m sure the girls are worried about us. We’ll take a few of your things that you’ll need for tonight, then I’ll stash your car and we’ll finish unloading it in the morning. Did you bring a tent?” I asked.

  “No,” Mom said. “We got rid of most of our camping stuff a long time ago and what we didn’t sell or throw out, you kids did a pretty good number on either losing or destroying. I did bring some heavy blankets down and a double-sized air mattress though.”

  “Great,” I said. “We’ll drive you guys back close to camp, and if you pull out whatever you need for tonight, we’ll carry the stuff back with us. You can bunk in our tent tonight, and we can work on setting you up with something better tomorrow. And if you have any food or anything that might not be good to leave in a humid car overnight, we can take that two. Will and I can make another trip or two if needed.”

  “We brought quite a bit of food with us,” Dad said. Most of it’s in coolers, so I think it’ll be fine in the car. How far is your camp from here?”

  “Not far,” I said. “Remember where you crossed the bridge on the way in?”

  They nodded that he did. “It’s just downstream from there, out of sight of the road just over a rise in the hill.”

  “Sounds like a good spot,” Dad said.

  We drove their SUV down to the bridge where we helped them unload some of their bags and other items.

  We got back to camp just as darkness began to fall.

  Will and I were ahead of our parents who navigated the darkened terrain at a slower pace. Claire met us, holding Jason, at the edge of camp. Even though it was dark, I could see the anticipation in her movements and in the way she stood.

  “It’s my parents,” I said, pre-empting her question.

  I could tell by her reaction that she was somewhat disappointed, but it was only something a husband would detect.

  “That’s wonderful,” she said, moving down the hill to greet them. “Frank…Susan…I’m so glad you made it.”

  I knew that Claire was honestly glad to see them, but I also knew that she was secretly hoping it was her own parents, or maybe even one of her brothers who had arrived. It’s exactly why I hadn’t wanted to tell her about the letters. I knew that as soon as she heard about how easy the drive down had been for my parents, she’d be expecting her own family to arrive soon as well. But there was a huge difference between leaving the outskirts of Merrillville, Indiana, and escaping the suburbs of Chicago. Plus, my father had lived in that area forever. As an antiques dealer who went to garage and estate sales, he knew all the back roads to take in order to travel largely unseen by the masses. I don’t care how many back roads or side streets you know in Chicago, they aren’t going to do you a bit of good when trying to get out unnoticed, and making use of such travel routes might only lead you into worse situations. It didn’t take much to block some of those city and suburban side streets. And it only took a few people looking to snag a new ride or steal provisions to ensnare and make quick work of those lacking street savvy and who had made an unfortunate wrong turn.

  Sharron and the kids weren’t far behind Claire, and welcomed us with a plate of toasted marshmallows she’d had the little ones working on to keep
them occupied and unmindful of what the dads might encounter were the visitors unwelcome ones.

  The kids immediately began jabbering away excitedly to their grandparents, telling them about their adventures around camp and the dam they’d been working on building down in the creek. At this point, the little ones only knew that they weren’t going back to school anytime soon and that they were on some sort of wonderful extended camping trip.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” Claire asked my parents, who were still in the process of catching their breath after the brief hike.

  “Sure,” my dad said. “What you got?”

  Claire ran through the list.

  “Sounds like you’re pretty well set up here,” Mom said.

  “Not too bad…for the moment at least,” I added.

  I was starting to get somewhat concerned about the amount of supplies we had on hand for our quickly growing numbers. I found myself hoping that when Dad said they had brought a lot of food with them that it meant a lot of food for ten people as opposed to just two, which is the number they had been accustomed to shopping for since Will and I had left home years ago. They’d likely forgotten just how much a family could consume.

  Dad came with me back down to the entry road to conceal their vehicle, so I had time to walk alone with him for several minutes and I asked him what kind of situation they had left behind them.

  He took a deep breath before answering, “Well, I guess not as bad as some other areas. It wasn’t terrible…yet. But the hospitals aren’t able to help any of the sick. Utilities were starting to get spotty, especially phone and electric service, if they were on at all. And all the grocery stores were empty and closed by the time we got out, although most of the looting stopped after the food ran out. When we left, a lot of people were just hunkering down, trying to wait this thing out. Right now, plenty of people still have food and water, and it seems that neighbors are willing to help out…the ones who aren’t sick at least. I think that when the supplies start drying up and things get tight though, that sort of kindness will stop, and that’s when things will really start falling apart. People will be forced to leave their homes to scavenge for food or other supplies. Many of them will probably either get sick or get into trouble trying to steal stuff.”